Love at Christmas Inn Collection 2

by Tanya Stowe et al

  Now, he wondered if such an investigation was the right thing to do.

  Cassie’s squeals echoed off the mountains as she scrambled over the path toward the chapel steps.

  “Be careful, Sassy Cassie,” Riley cautioned before he let her go, keeping her in view.

  “She’s a cutie,” Hope sighed when they were finally alone.

  “Yes, and a handful…but a loveable little handful.”

  Hope turned to him, her pretty chestnut-colored eyes drawing together as she studied him. “So, you never answered me. Why are you here?”

  “Here? Because Cassie wanted to see the chapel, and a little exercise will keep her from climbing the walls at the inn and annoying the tarnation out of everyone.”

  Hope propped her hands on her hips and gave him a deadpan glare. “You know what I mean. Why did you come here, to Christmas Inn, at the same exact time I arrived? Are you stalking me…searching for another story?”

  “Stalking you?” He blanched. Could she really think he’d do such a thing? The expression on her face clearly said she most certainly could—and did.

  “Is there an echo here?” Her right hand released the hip to jab a finger at his chest. “Haven’t you done enough damage? Just answer the question.”

  “I—”

  She interrupted him with a second jab.

  “If it’s another story you’re after, then I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’ve already ruined my life. I have no more blood to give.”

  “If you’ll just stop talking long enough for me to reply.” Because he longed to take her into his arms and calm her fears, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Reaching for her now would merely earn him the hat trick of jabs—or worse. “You’re way off base. I had no idea you’d be here.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Yes, I do.” He sighed. “But I’m glad it turned out this way—that we’re both here together, again.”

  “You’re glad? Why?”

  “Because I have a thing or two I’d like to say to you.” He leveled her a gaze that refused to budge. “First of all, I’m sorry, Hope.”

  “You’re sorry?” The finger jab again. His chest was beginning to smart. “That’s what you have to say for yourself?”

  “Yes, I’m truly sorry about the article. But I’m not sorry Warren was admitted to rehab. It’s going to help him get better.”

  “He didn’t choose to be a drug addict. He suffered an injury, had surgery, and felt pressured to return to practice too soon. I thought he was O.K., or I wouldn’t have agreed to skate with him until he had a better handle on things. I had no idea how bad his drug addiction was, but without you to interfere he might have gotten help without the entire world knowing his business—our business.

  “Do you really think that’s the way it would have played out?”

  “I suppose we’ll never know.”

  “Look, Hope, I’m sorry this entire ordeal put a halt to your skating career.”

  “A halt? It’s over. My skating career is effectively over, thanks to you.”

  “Am I the only one to blame in this? No one else?”

  That gave her pause, but not enough to respond.

  He sighed again, as if all the air in the universe expelled from his lungs. “Fine, I’ll take responsibility for all of it, if that pleases you. But I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  “Well, for someone who wasn’t trying, you sure did a bang-up job. I’d hate to see the havoc you might wreak with a little effort.”

  Riley’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat. “Okay, I deserved that.”

  “Of course you did. And more.”

  “So, now that you’ve made it perfectly clear just how much you loath me, can we please try to put it all behind us and move on?”

  “I’ve been trying for months. Warren, too, though he has a much higher mountain to climb if he’s ever going to get well again.”

  The continued mention of her skating partner brought front and center just why Riley had gone after the story. The guy was a ticking time bomb. His addiction to painkillers would have brought destruction to more than just the skating team. He could have seriously injured Hope—or worse. Riley’s actions had most likely saved her.

  From what, exactly, he wasn’t sure. But he knew in his soul that unchecked, Warren Reed would have done much worse than change the course of Hope’s skating career.

  His recklessness might have very well ended her life.

  “I was just trying to help you.”

  “How? By ending my career? By ending Warren’s?”

  “An opioid addiction can be devastating—or worse—to everyone involved.”

  “Warren would have gotten help on his own…eventually.”

  “Eventually might have been too late.” He shook his head. “There are things you don’t understand, Hope.”

  “Then help me to understand. Starting with why you came here to Christmas Inn, now.”

  “Fair enough. I came for that.” Riley pointed toward the chapel. “I’m researching for an investigative article.”

  “You mean you’re doing an article on the Christmas Inn chapel?”

  “On the bells…on what really makes them ring.” He started toward the stairs, taking her with him. “It can’t be love. That’s too far-fetched and crazy, probably nothing more than a marketing gimmick to draw people here and keep business booming. There has to be more to those bells, and I plan to find out exactly what that might be.”

  “Have you always been such a cynic?”

  He shrugged. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Well, I thought I had issues to work through, but you…” Her brows knitted together beneath the brim of her cap. “When you find your answers, what do you plan to do with the information?”

  “I’ll do what’s fair. I’ll expose the bells for what they are.”

  Her gaze speared his. “Then I hope love triumphs.”

  Chapter 4

  “MISS MALLORY, A PACKAGE ARRIVED for you just before you checked in yesterday.” Ari Christmas smiled from behind the lobby counter as Hope returned to the inn early that evening. “I’m so sorry I neglected to give it to you when you collected your room key at check-in.”

  “No worries.” Hope took the carton, about the size of a large shoebox. The return address was her grandparents’ home—the same home she had lived in since she’d lost her mother to an accident and her father had decided caring for an eight-year-old daughter on his own was just too much. Had she forgotten to pack something? Nothing came immediately to mind—especially nothing that would take a box this large. “Thank you.”

  The package had some weight to it, and she wondered what might be inside. She gave it a little shake and something in the wrappings rattled, piquing her curiosity.

  “Are you enjoying your stay?”

  “Yes,” she said, and found the words rang true. The walk to the chapel with Riley had begun on shaky ground, but their inspection of the quaint little historic structure soon had them laughing together. And the lighthearted time with Cassie was akin to a breath of fresh air. The precocious child was a delightful little ball of unbridled energy.

  The trio had spent the better part of the afternoon searching for a rational, earthly explanation of the bell chimes, and found no evidence of tampering—no hidden switches or concealed doors sheltering machinery that might be controlled from a remote site. If the bells were a hoax, the level of obscurity was unparalleled by modern standards.

  Together they listened, hoped for answers, and Cassie even called out in her innocent child’s voice to the bells, imploring them to ring. But it was no use. The bells held their silence…and their secrets.

  Ari tapped the pen she was holding against the countertop, calling Hope’s attention back to the check-in desk—and the package in her hands.

  “And your guest room,” Ari continued. “Is it to your liking?”

  “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Hope thought
of the angels dancing about, and for a moment wondered how their day had been while she was away. Then she laughed to herself.

  Get a grip, Hope. They’re not real. Just like the legend of the bells isn’t real.

  “Have you had a chance to explore the grounds?”

  “Only a small part of it. Riley and I went to the chapel following breakfast.”

  “Riley Tate?” She winked conspiratorially. “Yes, he’s something, isn’t he? You must have had a wonderful time together, since you’ve been gone most of the day. It’s already inching toward dinner.”

  “Oh, we weren’t together. Not like that.”

  “I see.” A grin tweaked her lips. “Of course.”

  “We searched the chapel—”

  “Searched?”

  “Yes. Riley is convinced the chapel bells are a hoax. I mean, when they ring. He thinks someone is manipulating them to draw attention to the inn.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m not sure what to think. It’s all so confusing.”

  Ari laughed softly.

  “Oh, don’t worry over the bells. They have a mind of their own. They’ll chime when the time is right, when true love…well, you’ll see.” Her smile was wide and genuine, adding a sparkle to her almond eyes. “As I said, it’s getting close to dinnertime, so I really must lend a hand in the dining room. I hope you don’t mind that we’ve decided to implement a seating chart for meals, since we don’t want anyone to fret over whether or not they’ll have a comfortable place to eat. I noticed you shared breakfast with Riley Tate and his sister Julia and niece Cassie, so I seated you all together for the week. I hope that meets with your approval.”

  “It’s…well, I suppose it’s okay.”

  “Fabulous. Table seven it is, then.” She tapped a note into the computer. “And following dinner tonight Emilee and Jayson Taylor, from Brewster Family Theater, are coming out to lead a round of karaoke. I hope you’ll join in.”

  “Oh, that sounds like fun, but I can’t sing.”

  “That’s what they all say.” Her laughter rang like wind chimes. “No worries, you’ll give it a try anyway. It’s still a good time for all, even when the wallpaper peels from the foyer.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, how can a girl resist?” Hope hugged the mystery parcel to her chest. “Thanks for the safekeeping of my package.”

  “You’re welcome. And here’s a map of the grounds, since I know you’ll be wanting to explore everything else we have to offer here at Christmas Inn.”

  “Thank you.” Hope nodded goodbye for now and carried the package to her room, where the angels were waiting to greet her.

  Chapter 5

  “DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD check on Miss Hope?” Cassie asked as she and Riley headed toward the inn for dinner the next evening. The air was chilled, and the short walk from the caretaker’s cottage, now renovated as an extension to the inn and a guest chalet for families, had him whistling into a breeze. “Maybe there’s a frog in her throat, like Mama’s.”

  Julia had worn down following an early dinner, complaining of a sore throat, and decided to head back to the chalet for a nap before the evening activities began. Since the accident, traveling was hard on her and the trip here had been a marathon, due to a freak winter storm that crippled sections of the interstate between Chicago and Hope Creek. Riley had promised to wake her in time for the inn’s annual Christmas tree decorating. A fifteen-foot Frasier Fir soared along one wall of the foyer, waiting for the decorations the guests had made in craft class following breakfast that morning.

  “It couldn’t hurt to check on her,” Riley agreed. “She never came to karaoke last night, and she missed breakfast, and now dinner, too.”

  It was a mystery. Yesterday their time at the chapel had been downright fun. Sure, the research had been a bust—there was no sign of manipulation of the bells, which baffled him because he’d been so sure he’d discover something—but Hope had finally begun to relax and lighten up, even laughing along with him as she helped him brainstorm silly headlines for his article.

  I Toll You So…The Bells of Christmas Inn

  For Whom the Bells Toll…Not Us

  To Toll or Not to Toll…The Real Bells of Christmas Inn

  Following their impromptu research, they’d returned to the inn, grabbed a cup of coffee, and chatted about the upcoming dinner selections. Christmas Inn chef Graham Forrester had amazing culinary skills, and Hope had even voiced her intention to enjoy every morsel of the delicious food he prepared for inn guests.

  Then Ari Christmas had summoned her to the front desk for a package, and she’d excused herself to collect it. That was the last he’d heard or seen of her.

  No explanation—not that she owed him one. Even so, concern riddled him. What if she had become ill, or needed help? He’d made subtle inquiries to both Ari Christmas and Lydia Forrester during dinner, and neither had heard from her since yesterday evening, either. But kind-hearted Lydia had promised to ask her husband Graham to place a carryout meal aside for Hope, regardless.

  “It couldn’t hurt to check on her, Riley,” Julia had nudged as she bundled up for the walk back to the cottage for a quick nap. “I’m sure she’d appreciate your concern.”

  “Well, I’m not so sure.”

  “You’ll never know if you don’t try.” She’d kissed his cheek. “Thanks for keeping watch over Cassie again. I didn’t mean for this vacation—”

  “Hush. Go rest. We’re fine.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, for karaoke.”

  And she’d trudged off, leaning on the cane with her limp more pronounced than usual.

  “Come on, Uncle Riley. Let’s go find Miss Hope.” Cassie tugged at the sleeve of his jacket.

  “We’re on it, Sassy-girl. Let’s solve this mystery.”

  Cassie giggled as they wound their way through the foyer and up the grand staircase toward the second-floor suite of rooms. Hope had mentioned she was staying in a room filled with angels, guest suite number eight. As they neared the landing, the clock began to chime the hour. Six bells rang out, and Cassie paused to watch Santa and his elves make their merry dance through the clock’s sweeping doors before all fell silent, once again.

  “Look, Uncle Riley! There she is.” Cassie pointed toward a window overlooking the grounds to the south. Through a veil of moonlight, he saw a slim figure seated on a bench toward the woods, barely visible through a veil of darkness broken only by a starlit sky. Instinctively, Riley knew it was Hope. Beyond her flashed a bright shimmer of lights, clustered together. “I think those are angel lights,” Cassie murmured in awe. “Let’s go see!”

  She shot off like a projectile from a cannon, racing down the stairs and through the lobby, then out the foyer doors. He struggled to keep up as she made her way over the walking trail, toward the South Pole Bridge.

  “Miss Hope, Miss Hope,” she shouted through the clear, crisp night. “Do you see the angels?”

  Hope jerked as if startled, and Riley noticed she quickly swiped at her eyes. Was she crying? Why?

  He double-timed it toward her.

  “Hey,” he murmured, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing sitting out here in the cold, all alone?”

  She shrugged and sniffled.

  “You are crying.”

  Her head tilted up. She swiped her eyes. “Thanks, Mr. Super Sleuth Reporter.”

  Undaunted, he settled onto the bench. After cautioning Cassie not to wander from his sight, he nestled in beside her. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Why, so you can shout it to the world?”

  “No, Hope.” He shook his head. “So I can listen, comfort…help you.”

  “What if I don’t want your help?” Her laugh was shaky. “I’m supposed to trust you now? Give me one reason why.”

  Because I love you.

  The words shocked him as much as they might have shocked her, had he actually voiced them. So he kept them to himself—for no
w.

  “I’m worried about you, Hope. I care about you. Please talk to me.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Nothing is too complicated to work through, with a shoulder to cry on and a little help from a friend.”

  “Where’s the friend?”

  “A break, Hope.” He smiled. “Just give me one little break and you’ll see.”

  She thought for a good, long time before finally relaxing.

  “OK, friend.” Her smile was a whisper through her tears. “I—”

  “Come quick, Uncle Riley!” Cassie interrupted with a frantic shout.

  “Where are you?” He sprang from the bench when he realized with a start that she was no longer in his line of sight.

  “Over here. Hurry, and bring Miss Hope. You hafta see what the angels made for us!”

  Chapter 6

  “IT’S A SKATING RINK,” RILEY said. “How about that. Who would have thought…?”

  The structure was portable, but nicely put together, with wrought iron bench seating all around. It sat on a flat space along the grounds, nestled just beyond the swimming pool building. A small self-serve kiosk loaded with pairs of skates in a variety of sizes rounded out the attraction. Surrounded by pine trees and animatronic reindeer, it made for a beautiful setting.

  “Isn’t it awesome, Uncle Riley?” Cassie asked. “I think the angels put it here, for Miss Hope. ’Cause they know she likes to skate.”

  The words, so innocent, heaped over Hope like hot coals. She couldn’t…she wouldn’t skate again.

  “Yes, it’s pretty cool,” Riley said. “And who knows about the angels?”

  Cassie clapped her hands, delighted. “Can I go see if any of the skates fit me?”

  “Sure, but remember we have karaoke soon, so there’ll be no skating tonight.”

  “OK.” She frowned, then suddenly lit up as an idea dawned. “Maybe tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see.” He tweaked her chin. The gentle gesture made Hope melt, despite the chilled breeze. No matter what she thought of Riley, the love for his niece was evident in his tone and soothing, if firm, gestures. “Stay where I can see you. No more wandering off.”